


Operation Cookie Dough

by Mouse9



Series: Tales from Baker Street [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas fic, Cookie Dough, Fluff, M/M, prompt, sweet tooth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouse9/pseuds/Mouse9
Summary: Mycroft Holmes has an objective.  And someone is keeping him from it.  Diversion tactics will need to be deployed.From the prompt: "stop trying to distract me while you eat the cookie dough or I swear I'll smack you with my spoon"
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Tales from Baker Street [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1474946
Comments: 8
Kudos: 76
Collections: Mystrade Holiday 2020





	Operation Cookie Dough

It was fascinating how one year could change everything so completely.

Last year during the Christmas season Mycroft Holmes would have been spending his time either at the Diogenes Club or in his library with a book and a good cognac. His home was quiet and smelled of leather, polish, and peat from the fireplace.

Now, the house was alive with the sound of Christmas music (something Mycroft tolerated) and the scent of baked goods (something Mycroft enjoyed) and instead of being sequestered in his library, Mycroft Holmes was currently stalking the outskirts of his kitchen, deliberating the best way to get in and get to his target unseen.

His nemesis was the six-foot, grey haired love of his life who was, at this moment, pouring vanilla into a mixing bowl and singing along to a Christmas song playing through his phone’s speakers.

The target, a second mixing bowl full of cookie dough, was located behind his nemesis, sitting innocently on the counter waiting to make their way onto the cookie sheet. Stealth methods would need to be put into place.

“I can hear you lurking, you know.” Greg called playfully from the kitchen. 

_Curses._

New strategy- distraction.

Mycroft calmly strolled into the kitchen, the picture of unbothered innocence. 

“I do not lurk,” he replied pointedly ignoring Greg’s raised eyebrow. “I wanted a glass of water and was loathe to disturb you.”

“Uh huh.” Greg picked up the measuring cup of brown sugar and poured it into the bowl. 

“Get out of the cookie dough!”

“I’m not!” The sticky substance stuck to the roof of his mouth making the words come out muffled and giving him away. 

“You know I can hear your mouth full, right?”

Mycroft scoffed as he took a drink of water to loosen the damning evidence from the roof of his mouth. 

“Balderdash.” He took another drink. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. Hand me the milk from the icebox please?”

Mycroft opened the door to the icebox and pulled out the milk handing it over to Greg. Then he leaned against the counter once more and slowly drank his water as he watched his partner. 

More so watched his partner’s derriere in the snug denims.

“What are you baking?” he asked, momentarily distracted.

“Christmas cookies for the office.” Greg poured in the appropriate amount of milk. “I volunteered this year to bring them.”

“Why you?” Mycroft asked as his hand strayed towards the bowl of cookie dough set just in easy enough reach from him to reach over and scoop a bit out. The taste of cinnamon and chocolate burst on his tongue.

“You couldn’t just order baked good from the bakery down the street?”

Greg shot him a horrified looked over his shoulder. “Store bought? Not on my watch! Besides,” he turned back to the mixing bowl and Mycroft scooped another glob from the bowl. “I enjoy baking. It relaxes me.”

Greg hummed along with the song as he turned on the mixer. Mind back to the task and taking advantage of the distraction, Mycroft scooped another portion of the rapidly diminishing cookie dough, eyes closing in delight at the taste. The sound of the mixer went silent and then there was a loud **THWACK! -** the sound of wood hitting marble.

Mycroft’s eyes flew open. Greg stood inches from him, a wooden spoon in hand. 

“Mycroft Holmes, stop trying to distract me while you covertly eat the cookie dough, or I swear I’ll smack you with a spoon.”

They stared at each other silently, for a few moments, then Mycroft smirked mischievously. Slowly, he stretched out his arm and scooped up a bit of the cookie dough from the bowl.

“Oh dear,” Finishing the small bit of dough, his smirk grew wider. “Idle threats, Gregory?”

The gleam in Greg’s eyes promised otherwise. 

“I’ll show you idle threats.” He growled in that way that whispered dark promises. Mycroft grinned wider. 

Oh, how a year could change everything indeed.


End file.
